Men Are From Chulak, Women Are From Cimmeria
by opalish
Summary: The differences between the fairer gender and the stinkier. Or, the differences between women and men. Or Sam with PMS


The bastard. No, bastard*s*. All of them. Every male on the frigging planet. No, make that every male in the *universe*. All of them were idiots, stupid, dumb, idiotic idiots!  
  
Sam almost snarled as she slammed her tray down on the commissary table, the vibrations of the impact causing her jello to wobble. "It's alive!" Doctor Janet Frasier remarked mildly, watching her fellow officer with an air of caution.   
  
Captain Carter sent Frasier a blank look, then attacked her jello with a fierceness that made a few officers pale.  
  
"Remind me never to have you help out around the infirmary," Frasier said, observing Sam mashing her jello around with a look of rage in her large blue eyes. "Get you mad and next thing you know, we're out of patients and have a surplus of mangled flesh."  
  
"Bastards!" Sam snapped out, startling the nearby officers, who slowly edged away from the crazed madwoman who was systematically destroying an innocent block of blue jello.   
  
"The hypothetical mangled patients?" Janet queried with good humor. Sam sent her a black look that nearly quailed the good doctor. "Sam, what's wrong? I thought you'd be happy. It's not every day someone hits their boss and gets a commendation out of it."  
  
"He's a bastard too," Sam growled, swallowing the last of the jello and starting in on the salad.  
  
"General Hammond is?" Janet looked startled.  
  
"All men," came the quick and serious answer. "Every last one of 'em. They meet one slightly pretty woman, one with a freaking *snake* in her, and suddenly it's 'Shut up, Carter, you may be the smartest person on base but we know best'. They get a bit horney and suddenly Hathor's the new bitch-queen of the base! And are they the slightest bit ashamed? Nope. I mean, if I were to mention that, say, Apophis is one hot stud, they'd think I was freakish and deranged. But they can *sleep* with her and they're just 'under the influence'."  
  
"Uh...would it be dangerous to my health to point out that they *were* under the influence?" Janet asked almost timidly.  
  
However, Sam took no notice and simply continued her rant. "And when we went to Chulak to save Teal'c's son. Bra'Tac insulted me because I was a woman, and did they stand up for me? No, of course not. And Colonel O'Neill just sent me away with Daniel while he and Teal'c did the real work. When we got Ernest, did Daniel care that his staying behind might get us trapped of hurt or even killed? No, because all he cares about is his precious archaeology. And the Colonel, pulling a Kirk on us and sleeping with Kynthia on Argos- I wanted to tear his head off!"  
  
"Don't you think he paid enough, what with the ageing?"  
  
"NO!" The furious cry rang out in the commissary's quiet confines. Janet winced as the officers scooted even further away. Sam wasn't just pissed. She was *PISSED*. Emphasis on the 'P'.  
  
"I mean, he returned to normal after a couple weeks. So what lesson does our very own Kirk-Wannabe learn? 'Hey, I'll sleep with whoever I want and Carter can take care of the consequenses.' And the deal with Jonas. Did I get a single sympathetic look? Nope. I mean, considering I used to be *engaged* to the bastard, you'd think someone would think that maybe I would want a little comfort. All the Colonel said was that it was okay I didn't kill him! Can you believe that?"  
  
"Uh-"  
  
"And the mission to Simarka is the worst of all! He called me *Samantha*!"  
  
"The Colonel?"  
  
"Of course the Colonel. And then he said I looked great!" If anything, she got even angrier as she spat the last out, shoving a forkful of salad in her mouth in order to let the full importance of her statement sink in.  
  
Janet was at a loss. "And that's a bad thing?" she ventured questioningly.  
  
Sam looked at her for a moment as if she couldn't believe the Doctor had just asked that. "Of course! Who would want to hear that?" She sounded almost incredulous.  
  
"Um...me, for one," Janet said, raising one eyebrow.   
  
Carter deflated slightly, looking less angry but more defeated. "It's not that," she said morosely. "It's just, why is the only time he complements me is when it's about my looks? He never says 'good job' or 'great going' when I save all our butts. I mean, I don't want to sound petty, but a little recognition once in a while wouldn't exactly kill me, you know?"  
  
Doctor Frasier's face brightened- she'd seen the light. "You feel taken for granted!" she almost crowed, pleased to finally understand exactly why her friend was so irritated.  
  
"I suppose," Carter replied eventually, after giving it some thought. "It's so frustrating, though. Why do I even care? It's not like I haven't had worse CO's- hell, the Colonel's one of the best I've ever had. So why does it matter so much to me that he sees I'm valuable as both a scientist and a soldier?"  
  
Well, Janet had a theory about that, one that many of the SGC personnel shared, but if she spoke it out loud, Sam was likely to go berserk. "I, uh, well, umm...." Janet settled for tossing the question back at Sam. "What do you think?" the Doctor asked slightly desperately.  
  
"Maybe it's because, for the first time, both my soldier and scientist sides are needed, and so I want both to be acknowledged," Sam rationalized, absently stabbing at her salad with her fork, her chin resting on one hand, which in turn was supported by her elbow on the table. "But I also want to be seen as more than just another scientist or soldier, but also as a woman in a men's field, one who is successful and competent. Uhg. Actually, it's probably just my PMS."   
  
Frasier considered Sam for a moment, pondering the latest theory. PMS. Sounded about right to her. "Chocolate ice-cream?" she hazarded.  
  
"Please."  
  
"Coffee?"  
  
"Even better."  
  
"Yep. PMS."  
  
"Just get me that damn chocolate," Sam begged/ordered, shoving the salad away from her.  
  
"I'll raid Daniel's stash for you, okay? And try not to come in contact with any men. I don't want to have my infirmary overflowing because I didn't get you chocolate in time."  
  
Sam smiled weakly. "I'll try."  
  
Janet was only gone a few moments when Colonel Jack O'Neill sauntered over to his 2IC, who was glumly staring down at a salad.  
  
"Hey, Carter," he greeted her, about to sit down.  
  
"Can't talk to you," Sam said politely, not looking up. "Doctor's orders."  
  
O'Neill stared at her, confused. "What? Why?"  
  
"Because Janet has my chocolate. Actually, Daniel's chocolate, but mine soon."  
  
"You can't talk to me because Doc Frasier has chocolate?" O'Neill repeated incredulously, staring at the blond woman askance.  
  
Carter nodded. "Exactly. Plus, I'm a scientist and a soldier and a woman." She said this all as if it made perfect sense.  
  
"Ah...right. Well, bye then." Jack backed away slowly. Women. He'd never understand them. Forget women being from Venus- that was too close to Earth to be true. Now Cimmeria or Argos....  
  
Sam watched O'Neill go, a bewildered look in his eyes. Men. Assholes. Mars was too good for them. Now Chulak....  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
No Jello's were eviscerated in the making of this story. Neither do we promote the theft of chocolate to satisfy PMS. Nor do we share all the views of men that were expressed throughout the story. Well, maybe not. At least not on our good days. Why am I referring to myself in plural form? Good God, I've been turned into Hathor!  
  
Email me. Please. Even if only to tell me that I am deranged and a danger to society. 


End file.
